That's Just Copacetic!
by Lucinda M. H. Cheshir
Summary: Eloise and the Winchesters investigate the mysterious death of a young actress in a historic theater in South Bend, IN. Read & review! Thanks!


**_Disclaimer: Yes, it comes as a real surprise that I don't own  Supernatural or any of its characters._**_  
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_South Bend, Indiana_

_A petite blond woman, Tara, is singing on the stage of a beautiful old theater. It is the early on the first day of rehearsals for "The Music Man," and Tara came especially early, wanting to impress the director, Mr. Martin._

Tara: ...Good night, my someone, good night.

_Tara finishes her song and pauses to take a sip of her bottled water. A shuffling noise from backstage attracts her attention._

Tara: Hello? Anyone there?

_No reply. Tara slowly walks off of the stage, towards where the noise had come from._

Tara: Mr. Martin? Is that you? I came early to practice for rehearsal.

_A dark figure moves in the shadows behind her, and Tara turns quickly, but the dark figure has vanished._

Tara: Okay, this is just too creepy. I'm leaving.

_Tara makes her way down to the rows of seats, and moves quickly up the aisle, pausing to snatch her jacket off of one of the seats in the front row. She makes it all the way to the back of the theater before stopping to work the fussy latch of the door. She gets it open after a few seconds, and is about to leave, when someone taps her lightly on the shoulder. Tara turns to face the shadowy man._

Tara: Oh, can I help you?

_The shadow nods._

Tara: Well, what can I-

_Tara is cut off by the shadow reaching for her neck, and she begins to scream, but soon does not have any air left for screaming._

_[Fade]_

_Eloise, Sam, and Dean are seated at a booth in a generic diner. Both Sam and Eloise have their laptops out, having finished eating, but Dean is still idly eating his french fries. After a few seconds, Sam closes his computer, but Eloise continues reading, seemingly intrigued by something. Dean, sitting next to Eloise, leans over to see what she has open._

Dean: The Morris? Where's that?

Eloise: It's a theater in South Bend, Indiana.

Sam: Anything interesting happen recently?

Eloise: I'll say. The local newspaper has an article on how a local actress was found dead there, strangled to death.

Dean: So? Why should we care?

Eloise: I managed to hack into the police database. No hand print, no glove fibers, nothing. It might just be me, but it sure sounds like this woman was killed by something other than a human.

Sam: Sounds like our kind of thing. Shall we check it out?

Dean: Sure, Sammy.

_Eloise shuts her laptop and Dean hastily finishes his remaining french fries. Sam, meanwhile, walks over to the counter to pay the bill. They exit the diner, and get into the Impala, the Winchesters sitting in the front, and Eloise sitting in the back._

Eloise: Let's roll.

_[Fade]_

_The Impala pulls up to the elegant front doors of the Morris, under a scrolling electronic marquee. Eloise and Dean get out, both wearing suits, Eloise having her long, rather unruly navy blue hair neatly styled into a bun. Glancing at each other as Sam pulls away to park the Impala, Eloise leads the way into the Morris' ornately decorated and high-ceilinged front chamber. A lanky, balding man, also wearing a suit and tie, the tie being navy blue decorated with tiny splotches of red, approaches them quickly._

Dean: Are you the director, Mr. Martin?

Martin: Yes, I am indeed. Young lady, if you wish to audition, you're cutting it very close. Hurry up, they're about to begin.

_Mr. Martin shepherds Eloise into the theater and backstage, Dean following, trying to get a word in edgewise._

Eloise: Uh, actually Mr. Martin, we're here to-

Martin: Go on, nothing to be afraid of. I'm sure you'll do fine. They all do.

Dean: What exactly are these auditions for?

Martin: To replace poor Tara, of course! I do feel terrible replacing her so soon, but as they say, the show must go on.

Dean: Didn't she have an understudy?

Martin: Yes, but she seems to have vanished into thin air, which is why we must replace both of them as best we can.

_Sam enters the theater, sees Dean talking to Mr. Martin, and comes over._

Dean: Don't worry Sam! You haven't missed little sis' audition!

Sam looks slightly confused for a moment, then catches on.

Sam: Oh, good. I was hoping I wasn't too late.

Martin: So who are you two, exactly?

Dean: Oh, I'm Dean Taylor, and this is my buddy Sam Deacon. My little sister, Ellie, is the one with all the talent. Gosh, when we were kids, she was always mom's favorite. Remember that, Sam?

Sam: Oh, yes. Always little miss perfect, wasn't she?

Martin: Well, I'll decide that for myself after her audition. You two may remain, but please sit nearer to the back. I don't want any distractions.

_Short montage of auditions, with a variety of songs, ranging from "Tomorrow" to "Hello, Dolly"- but all songs are from musicals. Eloise then takes the stage._

Eloise: _(to pianist)_ You don't happen to have any Billy Joel, do you? Maybe, oh, I dunno, "The Stranger?"

_The pianist nods silently. Once she finds the music, the pianist begins to play Billy Joel's "The Stranger." Eloise sings the song just beautifully._

_In the back of the rows upon rows of seats, after Eloise finishes the song, there is a smattering of applause. Eloise squints past the bright stage lights to see Dean, grinning somewhat mischievously and clapping hard. Eloise bows elaborately for his benefit and walks backstage._

_Backstage, the hopefuls gather around Mr. Martin, waiting to hear who he has chosen. Amidst the hubbub, Eloise notices Sam and Dean walk unobtrusively around the very back of the theatre, searching for some clue as to what happened there a few weeks ago._

Martin: All right, calm down, ladies. I've decided who gets the part.

_Mr. Martin pauses, heightening the tension until no one can really stand it any longer._

Martin: I've decided that Ellie Taylor gets the part of Marian the Librarian, and her understudy will be Josephine Adams.

_A collective groan comes from all but Eloise and a petite redheaded young woman, probably only about a year older than Eloise. Since she knew that Dean's chosen alias was "Taylor," Eloise looked back at the Winchesters suspiciously, and walks the yards of carpet over to them._

Eloise: I wouldn't happen to be Ellie Taylor, would I?

Dean: Yep. You're my little sister, for the time being.

Eloise: Yeah, well, I've just gotten the part of Marian the Librarian.

Sam: Really? That's great, Eloise!

Eloise: Yeah, great. Hey, isn't this where that Tara girl was found?  
>Dean: Yup. Got any EMF, Sammy?<p>

Sam: No. The needle's at dead zero.

Eloise: Maybe we should interview Mr. Martin, like we came here to do in the first place.

Dean: Okay, little orphan Annie.

Eloise allows the Winchesters to approach Mr. Martin on their own, and shouts to them.

Eloise: Hey, bro! I'm gonna wait in the entrance hall, m'kay?

_Dean nods and Sam taps Mr. Martin on the shoulder while Eloise leaves for the exit. Mr. Martin turns to talk._

Martin: Yes? Oh, Mr. Taylor, would you be so kind as to give this to your sister?

Dean: Uh, okay.

_Mr. Martin hands Dean a thick manila folder marked "Marian the Librarian" in an untidy scrawl._

Martin: That's the rehearsal schedule and her script.

Dean: Ah.

Sam: Mr. Martin, I understand that you were the one who found Tara Kite?

Martin: That's right. Who are you again?

Sam: I am Agent Deacon, and this is Agent Taylor. FBI. Ellie is just an amateur actress, as far as I know.

Dean: Yes, we have a few other questions for you, Mr. Martin.

_Switch to Eloise in the entrance chamber. In the cavernous room, everything is dead silent, the echoes of Eloise's clicking heels on the marble the only sound. Having nothing better to do than wait, Eloise looks around, searching for some sign of a haunting. She pulls out her own EMF detector and walks around._

Eloise: Hello?

_The EMF detector begins to beep violently, and an unseen force tightens around Eloise's neck. She drops the EMF detector, which lands on the marble floor with a clatter, and begins to grapple wildly at her invisible attacker, but her hands close around nothing but air._

_Coming to her senses, Eloise reaches for her pocket and shoves a handful of salt at her attacker. Immediately, Eloise is released and she falls to the floor, gasping for breath. Approaching footsteps make Eloise hurriedly pick up the dropped EMF detector and stuff it into her pocket. The footsteps turn out to be no one but Sam and Dean exiting the main theater hall. They pause, searching for Eloise. When Sam sees her on her knees across the room, he immediately sprints the few yards to her._

Sam: Eloise, are you okay? What happened?

Eloise: _(Coughing)_ I'll live.

Dean: What happened, Eloise?

Eloise: That was our vengeful spirit. I was getting readings that were off the charts and then...

Dean: What? Then what?

Eloise: Deannie, it tried to strangle me. The only reason it didn't succeed was 'cause I always have a pocketful of salt.

Sam: Are you sure it tried to strangle you?

Eloise nods, and winces.

Eloise: Positive. I bet I even have bruises on my neck to show for it.

Sam: Let's leave, shall we?

_Sam leads the way outside to the Impala, and they get in._

[Fade]

_The three are now in one of their motel rooms, Eloise, now dressed in jeans and a blue t-shirt, is seated in a chair while Sam examines the fresh purple bruises on her neck._

Sam: Eloise, are you sure you're okay?

Eloise: Yeah, Sam. I'll be just fine. Would you quit your mothering, please?

_Across the room, examining his father's journal, Dean snorts._

Dean: Get used to it, cupcake. Sammy's always saying that pansy stuff.

Eloise rises and makes it halfway to the door joining her and the Winchesters' motel rooms before she stops.

Eloise: What'd you call me?

Dean: _(innocently)_ What?

Eloise: Whatever, Deannie. Go ahead and humor yourself.

_Eloise continues to her room and comes back a few seconds later, carrying her jean jacket, a blue newsboy cap with silver and iron studs dispersed over the area of it, and her laptop._

Eloise: So, I've come to the conclusion that something in that theater does not like Marian the Librarian.

Sam: We should do some research into the history of the Morris.

Dean: I'll see what I can dig up at the library.

Eloise: Happy hunting, Deannie. I'll help you if you like.

Dean: Don't you have lines to memorize, shortcake?

Eloise: Deannie, if you must give me a food-related nickname, name me after muffins. They're quite tasty.

Dean: Okay, Muffins. It's your name.

Eloise: You know, I'm beginning to think that you're hungry.

Dean: What makes you say that, Muffins?

Sam: Dean, just grab some food for us when you get back from the library.

Dean: Okay, Mr. Buzzkill. I'll be back.

_Dean saunters out of the motel room, and the Impala can be heard starting up a few seconds later._

Eloise: I'll help you then, Sam.

Sam: Okay, great. See what you can dig up on the history of the Morris.

Eloise: Got it.

_Eloise pulls on her cap and sets her jacket over the back of the chair she had been sitting in, and opens her laptop to do some serious research._

_[Fade]_

_Later, Dean returns to the motel room, carrying a McDonald's bag containing their food, which he hands over to Sam and Eloise._

Dean: Hey Muffins, Sammy, how's the research going?

Sam: I got nothing. The place seems clean.

Eloise: "Built in 1921 as a vaudeville house, the vaudeville acts ran continuously with a new act every ten minutes." There's not really much here about any gory deaths related to it, but then again, why would there be? Tell me you found something at the library, Deannie.

Dean: Not much. There were a couple reported deaths during the renovation, but it was nothing really violent. Just a heart attack and a seizure.

Eloise: Well, I guess we've hit a dead end there. We ought to figure out why this spirit targeted me, of all people.

Dean: Maybe it felt threatened by your ghastly appearance.

Eloise: Shut up, Deannie. I'm not in the mood.

Sam: Wasn't Tara also playing Marian the Librarian?

Eloise: Yeah, she was. But Marian the Librarian is just a character in a musical. Why target her?

Sam: There could have been a production or something put on, and maybe the actress playing Marian died.

Eloise: I don't think that this spirit was female.

Dean: What makes you say that? Did you see it?

Eloise: No, but if you'll recall, the thing did try to strangle me. I could feel its hands. They were rough and calloused, and they most definitely belonged to a man. And I could smell something in the air... something like... sawdust.

Sam: So this spirit could have been a carpenter once, is that what you're saying?

Eloise: Yes.

Sam is busily typing this new information into his laptop, and soon comes up with something.

Sam: I think we found our mystery man.

Eloise & Dean: Yeah?

Sam: George Anderson, a carpenter, died on the job in 1919, found hanged from the rafter of an unfinished building. Guess what the unfinished building turned out to be.

Dean: The Morris.

Sam: Yup.

Eloise: Where is he buried? Let's burn the remains!

Sam: Wait, let's hold up for a second. Why would this guy be targeting Marian the Librarian?

Eloise: Does it say anything about his family?

Sam: Nope.

Eloise: Search Marian Anderson.

Sam: What?

Eloise: Just do it.

_Obediently, Sam does as he is told, and his expression changes from one of bemusement to downright confusion._

Sam: Well, this certainly is interesting.

Dean: What?

Sam: Marian Anderson, wife of the aforementioned George Anderson, was found strangled in April of 1919, two months before her husband died.

Eloise: I thought as much. Any convictions?

Sam: No. Apparently, she was something of a librarian, too. Always sharing books with the neighbors and such.

Dean: Marian the Librarian. Classy.

Eloise: So, George killed Marian and then hanged himself? Is that what we're looking at?

Dean: It seems so, Muffins.

_Eloise yawns._

Eloise: Well, I'm sure tired. Wake me if you happen to find out where they're buried and want to go burn some remains.

_Eloise shuffles into her motel room, pausing before she shuts the door behind herself._

Eloise: 'Night, Deannie, 'night, Sam.

Dean: Good night, Muffins.

Sam: See you later, Eloise.

_Eloise shuts her door, and Sam turns to face his brother._

Sam: You're just going to keep on calling her "Muffins?"

Dean: Yes, Sammy. Yes I am.

Sam: You have problems.

Dean: She started it. An eye for an eye, and all that crap.

Sam: Right. Well, I'm going to see if I can't find out where these two are buried.

Dean: You do that. I'm going to sleep for a couple hours.

_Dean switches off the lights. Sam scowls, but continues typing on his laptop._

_[Fade]_

_Sam stands up. It is still dark outside, so Sam looks at the clock on the bedside table. It is a quarter past two._

Sam: Dean, wake up.

_Sam switches the lights on. Dean grunts and rubs his eyes blearily._

Dean: What?

Sam: I found where the Andersons are buried. We ought to burn them both, just in case.

Dean: Oh. Peachy. Give me a minute.

_Sam nods and goes over to Eloise's door. He begins to rap loudly on it until Eloise responds._

Eloise:_ (sleepily)_ You found 'em?

Sam: Yes. Get up.

Eloise: Okay, be right there.

_Seconds later, Eloise reenters the Winchesters' room, to see Dean still being sluggish._

Eloise: Deannie, get up! This may be the golden opportunity! Anyway Sam, where are they buried?

Sam: In a small graveyard on Cleveland road, right across from the apartment complex.

Eloise: Great. Well, no time like the present, I like to say. Hurry up, Deannie!

Dean: Yeah, yeah, I'm coming.

_Moments later, Dean is driving the Impala down a busy road._

Sam: Here it is. Pull over.

_Dean pulls over and stops the Impala. They get out and go to the trunk._

Dean: Here, Muffins. You get to hold flashlights.

Eloise: Oh, lucky me. If it's all the same to you, Deannie, I'd rather dig. If you recall, it's my head that this psycho is after.

Dean: No, It's not all the same. Hold the flashlights.

_Eloise scowls and looks to Sam for support. Sam merely shrugs, so Eloise scowls at him, too._

Eloise: Fine. Then let's start digging.

_Later, Sam and Dean have almost completed digging up the two Andersons. Dean reaches the coffin of George Anderson first, but Sam is not far behind._

Dean: Salt, please, Muffins.

Eloise: Here ya go.

_Eloise tosses a nearly empty box of rock salt to Dean, and then hands a freshly opened one, much more carefully, to Sam. The Winchesters salt the bones of the dead Andersons, and next comes the propellant. Dean climbs out of the grave, lights his lighter, and tosses it down to the flammable mess of bones. Sam does the same, and the three solemnly watch the smoke rise into the air as the bodies burn._

Eloise: Well, that's that, I guess.

Sam: Yeah, something like that.

Dean: I for one want to go back to the motel and sleep. Muffins, you get to fill 'er up.

_Dean picks up the shovel he had been using and tosses it to Eloise._

Eloise: So you won't let me make a mess, but you will let me clean up yours?

Sam: That's how Dean works.

Eloise:_ (Imitating a Southern twang)_ Well, gee, ain't that just copacetic.

_Sam laughs slightly, and begins shoveling dirt back into the hole he had made. Eloise smiles back and follows suit._

_[Fade]_

_The next morning, Dean wakes up to the sunrise streaming in through the curtains. He groans, but sits up and stretches. Then he gets out of bed and goes to the bathroom to get dressed. When the door clicks shut, Sam wakes up. The alarm on the clock goes off, and Tears For Fears "Everybody Wants to Rule the World" plays._

_Switch to Eloise in her room. Her alarm is set to the same station, and the song plays, but she doesn't move a muscle._

_Back to Sam and Dean, both fully dressed, now, Dean knocks on Eloise's door._

Dean: Rise and shine, Muffins!

_Still comatose, Eloise does not respond._

Sam: Eloise? Get up!

_Still nothing. The Winchesters glance at each other, carefully draw their pistols, and Sam kicks the door open._

Dean: Eloise?

_Eloise is still lying immobile on her bed, and "Everybody Wants to Rule the World" is still playing on the radio. Putting his revolver away, Sam goes and feels her neck for a pulse. Then he checks for breathing.._

Sam: She's not breathing, but she's still alive.

_Slightly panicked, Dean takes his cell phone out and dials 911 as Sam begins giving Eloise chest compressions._

Dean: Hello? We have an emergency. My sister has stopped breathing. Where are we? Room 23 at the Motel 6 on 933. Yeah, hurry! I'm Dean Taylor, my little sister is Eloise Taylor. Hurry up!

_Dean hangs his cell phone up, holsters his own revolver, and thoughtfully shuts the doors adjoining the two motel rooms. Then he flips the light switch and opens the door of Eloise' s motel room and goes out onto the landing to watch for the ambulance. Seconds later, the sirens can be heard and the speeding ambulance pulls into the motel parking lot and the paramedics get out. Dean waves his arms at them and they race up the stairs with a stretcher. Sam gets out of the way to wait outside with Dean._

Dean: Here. Pack up, check out, and take the car and meet us at the hospital. I'll stick with Muffins.

_Dean throws the keys to the Impala to Sam, and he nods and goes down to the parking lot. When the paramedics come out with Eloise, Dean follows them. Another paramedic, (PM) is getting into the back after Eloise. She stops Dean when he tries to follow._

PM: Sir, who are you?

Dean: I'm that kid's brother! I'm the only family she's got left, so let me in!

PM: Alright, okay. No need to get all worked up! Come on.

_Dean follows the paramedic into the back of the ambulance. The paramedic is already hooking Eloise up to a large machine to observe her vitals and give her the needed oxygen._

PM: Is your sister an asthmatic?

Dean: No. I mean, she doesn't carry an inhaler or anything.

PM: Well something's constricting her airways.

_Dean glances worriedly at the unconscious Eloise, lying on the stretcher in her bulky blue pajamas._

PM: Does she have any allergies?

Dean: None that I know of. If she did, she never mentioned them, and they never were an issue.

PM: Any idea of how long she wasn't breathing?

Dean: A couple minutes, maybe? I really don't know. But she's still alive, so it couldn't have been very long, right?

PM: You are aware that brain cells begin to die within five minutes?

Dean: Really? Oh, crap, Muffins, if you die on me, I'm gonna be so pissed at you!

PM: We're almost to the hospital, calm down Mr. Taylor. Your sister is going to be all right. Is that a necklace?

_Dean glances back to see a large and old-looking iron key hanging from a silver chain around Eloise's neck._

Dean: Uh, yeah.

PM: I have to take it off. Here, take it.

_The paramedic unclasps the chain and gently removes the necklace and gives it to Dean as they pull up to the doors to the emergency room. The paramedics take Eloise into the ER, but the woman with whom Dean had conversed stops Dean before he can follow._

PM: Mr. Taylor, I'm going to have to ask you to wait here.

Dean: What?

PM: Your sister will be fine, I promise you.

_The paramedic goes to follow the others, and Dean remains standing there, standing awkwardly. Sam bursts through the double doors at the end of the waiting room, panting heavily._

Sam: So? How's Eloise doing?

Dean: We just got here. But look at this.

_Dean holds up Eloise's key._

Sam: What about it? It's a key. It looks as though it's make of iron.

Dean: Yeah. Eloise was wearing it around her neck. On a silver chain.

Sam: Why?

Dean: I think she's been using it as a defense mechanism. Isn't there something in changeling lore about a key?

Sam: Yeah, an iron key on the covers is supposed to ward them off.

Dean: So Muffins has been worried about changelings?

Sam: Seems so.

_The paramedic from before comes back into the waiting room._

PM: Dean Taylor?

Dean: Yeah?

PM: Your sister's awake and asking for you. I told you that she'll be fine. Oh, and she's also asking for, uh, Sam Deacon?

Sam: That'd be me.

_The paramedic nods and leads the way to a quiet, sterile hospital room, where Eloise is sitting up on her pillows, looking weak, shaky, and uncomfortable, being attached to an apparatus giving her oxygen._

Dean: You okay, Muffins?

_Eloise nods._

Eloise: Where's my key?

_Dean gives her the iron key, and Eloise fastens the silver chain around her neck._

Sam: Do you have any idea what happened?

Eloise: I was asleep, Sam. But it was probably that strangler. I think they want to X-ray my neck to see if anything's wrong with it.

Dean: Great. How you feeling?

Eloise: Just peachy, Deannie. Never been better.

Dean: Muffins, just so if this happens again- and it probably will- do you have any allergies?

Eloise: No, I don't. Lucky for you, too. I bet you said I didn't, didn't you?

Sam: Not to pry, or anything, but what's with the key?

Eloise: It's protection. My father gave it to me when I was six. He told me to wear it always, so I have.

Sam: Oh. Okay.

Eloise: Well, I guess it wasn't Anderson who keeps trying to gank me.

Dean: So now we're back to square one.

Eloise: Not so fast, Deannie. I think I might know, but I'd have to have my laptop to be sure, and it's back at the motel, isn't it?

Sam: No, actually. It's in the car. I can go get it.

Eloise: Thanks, Sam.

_Sam exits the hospital room, and doesn't return for a few minutes. When he returns, Eloise's black "Ramones" messenger bag is slung across his shoulder._

Sam: Here.

Sam hands Eloise her bag, and Eloise takes out her blue laptop.

Eloise: Found it. "Marian Anderson, age 35, was strangled to death in her home on February 13, 1919. Her husband, George, and brother, Donald Marley, were devastated." Is it just me, or does this Donald Marley sound kind of suspicious?

Dean: It's not just you. Look him up.

Eloise: Donald Marley, died in 1932 by a heart attack. Guess what his occupation was?

Sam: Another carpenter?

Eloise: Right on the nose, Sam.

Dean: So what you're saying is that Marian's own brother killed her and her husband?

Eloise: Seems plausible. Seems he was a bit of a drunkard, with violent mood swings.

Sam: Where is he buried?

Eloise: Same graveyard, probably nearby Marian and George.

Sam: Great. Come on, Dean, let's go torch this guy!

Eloise: What? No! One of you's got to stay here! Marley could be here, waiting for you both to leave so's he can start up with the strangling me again!

Dean: Okay, Muffins, calm down. I'll stick around here, with you. Sammy, you go and burn the dead dude without me. You still have the keys, don't you?

Sam: Yeah. Here, you want me to put that stuff back in the car for you, Eloise?

Eloise: Sure, thanks, Sam.

Dean: Oh, Sam?

Sam: Yeah?

Dean: Make sure no one sees you.

Sam: Will do. See you both later.

_Sam leaves, carrying Eloise's "Ramones" bag, and passes a nurse in blue scrubs (Joanna), who enters Eloise's room after Sam is gone._

Joanna: Hi, you must be Eloise Taylor!

Eloise: Who wants to know?

Joanna: I'm Joanna. I'm going to be taking you to get your X-rays done in a little while, but first I have to see how you're doing.

Eloise: Just so long as my brother here doesn't have to leave.

Joanna: So you're her brother?

Dean: Yes, I am.

Joanna: Well, isn't that nice! My brother is all the way across the country right now. I must say, I'd really like to see him again. You're lucky, Eloise, to have your brother still around. But in any case, how're you feeling?

Eloise: A lot better, thanks.

_Across town, Sam finds the gravestone bearing the legend: Donald Marley. Sam sighs, takes out his shovel, and begins digging._

Joanna: What about those bruises on your neck?

Eloise: Hm? Oh, you mean these. Yeah, I had a bit of a tussle yesterday. But I survived.

Joanna: A tussle? With who?

Eloise: My boyfriend- well, EX-boyfriend. He was always a bit violent. I'm just lucky that Deannie here came in the room in time to stop him. I wouldn't bother putting a search out for him, though. The bastard is probably long gone by now. He may be a moron, but he isn't completely stupid.

Dean: Yeah, yeah. You're welcome that I saved your ass.

Eloise: I haven't thanked you enough already?

Dean: Nope.

Eloise: You're just going to have that looming over me when you want a favor in the future, aren't you?

Dean: Yep, probably.

Joanna: Well, that's all I needed to know. Come along, Eloise, it's time for your X-rays.

Eloise: Can my brother come?

Joanna: Sure, of course he can! Here, I'll detach you from that monster.

_Joanna turns off the large machine, and with Dean's help, Eloise stands up, and the two follow Joanna down the hallway to a room filled with the X-ray machine._

Across town, Sam is almost done digging.

Joanna: Right here, Eloise. Mr. Taylor, you come back around here.

Eloise: Oh, Deannie- here take this.

_Eloise takes off her necklace and gives the key to Dean, who shoves it in his pocket. Joanna leads Dean behind a shield, and puts on a rather ridiculous-looking heavy lead apron. Joanna puts one on, too, and calls out to Eloise._

_Sam sprinkles rock salt across the bones, followed by propellant._

Joanna: Okay, Eloise, just lie down and hold your breath for a moment.

Eloise nods, lies down, inhales deeply, and doesn't exhale.

_Sam fumbles with the lighter._

Joanna: Okay, Eloise. It's done.

_Eloise breathes out loudly, but doesn't seem to be able to breathe in again._

Eloise:_ (Choking)_ Dean!

_Dean throws off the lead apron and pulls out the first thing he can find- Eloise's key- and he swings it at the air above Eloise. For a moment, the ghost of Donald Marley flickers into sight._

_Sam has given up the lighter and lights a match, throwing it down into the grave below._

_Dean swings the iron key at the ghost again, but before contact is make, Donald Marley vanishes, as though consumed by flame._

Dean: Good timing, Sammy.

_Sam watches the corpse burn in silence._

_Eloise breathes sharply in._

Eloise: I'll say!

Joanna: What in the heck was that?

Eloise: Joanna, you don't wanna know.

_[Fade]_

_Sam, Dean, and Eloise are sitting in the Impala, Sam seated in the back seat, Eloise sitting shotgun, and Dean driving. Billy Joel's "We Didn't Start the Fire" is playing, but it quiets when the conversation._

Dean: So they let you out?

Eloise: Yup. Only minor damage, as far as they could tell. Now I've got a souvenir bracelet to show for it.

Sam: Shouldn't we call Mr. Martin and tell him you're leaving town?

Eloise: Nah. I think he'll figure it out when he finds my script on his doorstep, along with "I quit" written on the stupid manila envelope.

Sam: Great. It may have been digging up two graves in less than twelve hours, but I'm tired.

_Sam leans back into the seat, and within moments his breathing becomes deep and even._

Eloise: Well, I guess that means he's asleep.

Dean: Yep.

Eloise: Hey, Deannie?

Dean: Yeah?

Eloise: Thanks for staying with me at the hospital, even though it didn't do me much good.

Dean: You're welcome, kid.

Eloise: It means a lot to me, you know.

Dean: Get to the point, Muffins.

Eloise: Well, I always wanted to have a brother. Now, I feel almost like I've got two.

Dean: Aw, thanks kid.

_Dean reaches over and tousles Eloise's layered hair fondly. Eloise smiles._

Eloise: You're welcome, Deannie.

Dean: Tell you the truth, I always kind of wanted a little sister. Not actively, of course, but sometimes when it was just me and Sammy growing up, the kid drove me nuts, and I wanted someone else to talk to. Now I'm stuck with both of you.

_Eloise laughs quietly, and Dean grins._

Eloise: Yes, Deannie. Yes you are. But at least you had your dad sometimes. At least he raised you past age eight.

_The smile on Dean's face vanishes, replaced with a look of seriousness._

Dean: Muffins, we're gonna find out what happened to your dad and why, I promise.

Eloise: Thanks, Deannie. I must say, you do have a nose for trouble, don't you?

Dean: What's that supposed to mean?

Eloise: I dunno. Turn up the music.

_Dean turns up the dial and the Impala pulls off , to the highway._

_[Fade]_

_{The end}?_

_Author's Note: Okay, so while New Carille in Eloise's previous adventure was completely made up, South Bend and The Morris aren't. __I highly doubt that a man named Donald Marley actually killed his sister and brother-in-law in 1919, but hey, that's what making stuff up is for! The Morris (previously called the Palace Theater) really was a Vaudeville House back in the 1920's, and since the renovations in 1998, it's been restored to its former beauty. I've always had sort of a foreboding feeling when I went in the front doors, but also, I've always been taken in by the whole aesthetic appeal of the architecture. In short, it's one of those places that makes South Bend a less unpleasant place to live._

_-Lucy_


End file.
